The steps we dance are strange,
Me and my ex wife.
Patterned choreography,
Not good but not quite strife.

Never in each others life,
But never really out.
Interlopers each we are,
Pensive, both in doubt.

Into the night we contemplate,
Our solo symphonies.
Silhouettes in moonlight,
But just from memory.

Tangled in a glistening web,
But somehow both set free.
The path ahead not easy,
But one that has to be.

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